


Mythletoe

by mandykaysfic



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parrish knows the full history of mistletoe, but Lorne's more interested in what it can do for his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mythletoe

“Doc, should you be taking a parasite back to Atlantis?” Lorne watched Dr Parrish tease out a sample of the red-berried plant that had wound itself around and through a tree even he could recognize as a different species.

“It’s not a parasite. Or rather, it’s hemiparasitical, if it’s what I believe it is.”

“Hemi-?”

“Hemi-parasitical.” Parrish emphasized carefully. “It’s not a true parasite as it’s capable of photosynthesizing on its own.”

Lorne tuned out the rest of the explanation. He found Parrish’s enthusiasm over plants more than a little intoxicating even though he barely understood a quarter of the botanical terms. He was mostly content to watch the animation light up his teammate’s face and let the happy tones of his voice wash over him. “Is it some sort of holly? It’s rather Christmassy looking.” If it wasn’t dangerous, maybe they could take a whole lot back to Atlantis. It would be Christmas back on Earth next week and Dr Weir had announced there would be appropriate celebrations that would include decorations. The labs had been declared off-limits for safety reasons, but the Mess and a number of other places were fair game, and it seemed like every day saw a new garland or ingenious handmade decoration being displayed somewhere.

“Oh, no. This in no way resembles anything like the family Aquifoliaceae, of which the Ilex is a member. Holly, you know. I’m certain this is a Loranthaceae. It’s been linked with a cure for cancer, or at least with the ability to slow down the growth of tumors. We definitely need this one. It may be the species that will achieve what the others haven’t.”

“Which species would that be again?” Lorne hoped he hadn’t missed anything obvious, but he saw Parrish was unable to totally conceal an all too knowing smile as he answered in a tone that was over-innocent.

“I’m sorry. Did I forget to mention this is a type of mistletoe?”

“Mistletoe?” Parrish hadn’t mentioned mistletoe and knew he hadn’t, Lorne was positive. “But that’s got white berries, sort of like pearls. Not red.”

“Not all of them, a small number produce berries in a range of colors.”

“You’re sure it’s perfectly safe,” said Lorne, interrupting what had every appearance of becoming a verbal treatise on the many different colors in which mistletoe berries could be found. Tangerine? No, that was the flowers, which may or may not be the same color as the berries. 

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. It seems like this stuff is pretty abundant, so let’s load up. You organize what you want for your samples and we’ll handle the rest.” 

Lorne radioed Reed and Coughlin, who produced some mushrooms for Parrish’s inspection. Sadly, they had too many features of some of the poisonous varieties for them to risk taking back. They did however pounce upon the mistletoe picking project with glee. Reed snaffled one of Parrish’s specimen containers and carefully selected a choice sprig for his own personal use.

The rear of the jumper looked like the triffids, albeit nice ones, had decided to return to Atlantis with the team. Coughlin teased Reed about his plans for the mistletoe; Reed's relationship with Dr Biro was something the team was still getting used to.

“She’s very big on minutiae. I’m a man of action. This’ll be one way to stop her talking about everything,” said Reed with a grin. 

Lorne’s ears pricked up. Not that he wanted Parrish to stop talking, but sometimes…. He tried to picture Parrish’s face if he suddenly held up a piece of mistletoe and kissed him into silence. 

“You do realize you’re supposed to remove a berry for every kiss. Once they’re gone, that’s it,” remarked Parrish. “No more kisses.”

“Are you sure?” asked Reed suspiciously.

“Yes, in fact, if one goes back to the ancient Druids, mistletoe was used as an aphrodisiac.”

“I can get behind that!” said Coughlin gleefully. “What do we do? Eat the berries?”

“Definitely not! Most are toxic to humans. What you need to do is hang the berries from ceilings or doorways. They weren’t allowed to touch the floor. Parts of it were used to make a sexual stimulant. When the young Druid lads and lasses were sufficiently horny, they would go into the fields – they were the children of the corn, you know – and they would have copious amounts of sex in public. This was to excite the Gods and encourage them to do likewise.”

“Orgy in the Mess Hall,” said Coughlin.

Lorne gave a small frown. He didn’t want Parrish taking part in an orgy, unless it was an orgy for two.

“I haven’t finished,” said Parrish. “The Druids believed that the rains which fell at this time were the seeds of the Gods and resulted from Godly sexual unions. They were essential for abundant agricultural growth.” 

“Orgy in the Greenhouse,” suggested Reed. 

“That might play havoc with the fertilizer experiments and we wouldn’t want that.” Parrish’s tone was deceptively mild and Reed subsided. “Actually, we should ask Teyla or Ronon whether any of the people they’ve encountered have any particular mistletoe-related customs. We wouldn’t want to inadvertently offend anyone.”

“They’ll probably be all of aphrodisiacal God worshipping type, like most of them seem to be,” said Coughlin. “We’re a bit behind on participating in that type of ceremony. Did you hear what Stackhouse’s team had to do on M3S-586?”

They’d all heard about that. Stackhouse had personally filled in Lorne on all the details that hadn’t made it onto the grapevine, which he didn’t share thanks to an unspoken Team Leaders’ Rule. Some things best remained private.

 

Back on Atlantis Lorne selected some mistletoe for himself. He carefully chose a branch with a decent number of stems with berries. If Parrish held him to the letter of the legend, Lorne wanted to make sure they didn’t have stop after only two or three kisses.

“You’re getting mistletoe.”

Lorne jumped when Parrish’s voice sounded in his ear. He hadn’t noticed him sneaking up behind.

“Yeah, I thought I’d decorate my quarters a bit. Say, do you want to come over for supper? You could tell me some more about the mistletoe. I got the impression you hadn’t told me…us everything you know about it.”

“Well, there’s the legend of Baldur. That’s rather fascinating and thought to be the true origin of why people kiss under the mistletoe. Baldur’s mother was the Norse goddess Frigga,” began Parrish.

Lorne raised his hand. “Save it for supper.”

Parrish flushed. “I’m doing it again,” he said with a wry smile. “You’re probably sick of everything to do with mistletoe.”

“Not quite,” responded Lorne enigmatically. “I look forward to hearing all about Baldur and Frigga.”

“Then I look forward to telling you.” Parrish tilted his head and they stared at one another for a long moment.

Eventually they parted; Lorne to his quarters and Parrish to establish his mistletoe samples in his favorite lab.

 

“Not supposed to touch the floor, I think you said.”

“That’s right,” answered Parrish as he eyed the bunch of mistletoe suspended from a freestanding lamp that stood at the end of a low table. He recognized it as the one Lorne normally used at his drawing board. Now it was angled to illuminate the food Lorne had provided for supper, with the mistletoe making odd shadows that shifted when the air moved.

A wooden board carved in the shape of an artist’s palette, a gift from Dr Zelenka after they were forced to stop playing the Ancient computer game, had been artfully arranged with fresh and dried fruit, nuts and cheese. Plain crackers and sweet biscuits rounded out the selection.

Lorne waved Parrish to take a seat on the sofa, and then with a flourish, produced a pair of glasses and a bottle of something. “No mistletoe in this,” he said. “Teyla promised me.” 

“This surprisingly light-bodied wine is a less demanding partner, virtually free of tannins. Strawberry and raspberries dominate and it has a grapey appeal,” said Parrish solemnly after a thoughtful sip. 

Lorne spluttered, but responded quickly. “I believe I detect a nutty aroma, which develops coffee-chocolate notes of flavor.” He paused. “Perhaps McKay would like this one.”

“You can’t really taste coffee or chocolate.”

Lorne grinned and shook his head. That set the tone for the evening and they bantered back and forth for a while until Lorne mentioned the legend of Baldur.

“You don’t really want to hear that.”

“You promised.”

“If you’re sure….”

Lorne looked at the mistletoe above their heads. “I’m sure,” he said softly. He leaned back into the sofa and slid over the fraction it took until their shoulders touched.

“I mentioned Baldur’s mother was Frigga,” began Parrish, and his foot bumped against Lorne’s. He spoke slowly, retelling the simple legend. “And so it was decreed that any two people meeting under the mistletoe would exchange a kiss in memory of Baldur.”

Lorne pressed his lips to Parrish’s. “In memory of Baldur,” he said as he drew back.

“Perhaps,” said Parrish. He swallowed and started again. “Perhaps we should remember him some more. At least,” and he eyeballed the mistletoe berries, “at least a dozen times.”

“At least,” agreed Lorne. 

And they did.

END

 

The Legend of Baldur and the Mistletoe

Once upon a time Baldur dreamed heavy dreams which seemed to foretell his death. Thereupon the gods held a council and resolved to make Balder secure against every danger. So his mother the goddess Frigg took an oath from fire and water, iron and all metals, stones and earth, from trees, sicknesses and poisons, and from all four-footed beasts, birds and creeping things, that they would not hurt Balder. When this was done Balder was deemed invulnerable; so the gods amused themselves by setting him in their midst, while some shot at him, others hewed at him, and others threw stones at him. But whatever they did, nothing could hurt him; and at this they were all glad.

Only Loki, the mischief maker, was displeased, and he went in the guise of an old woman to Frigg, who told him that the weapons of the gods could not hurt Balder, since she had made them all swear not to hurt him. Then Loki asked, ‘have all things sworn to spare Balder?’ She answered, ‘East of Valhalla grows a plant called mistletoe; it seemed to me too young to swear’. So Loki went and pulled the mistletoe and took it to the assembly of the gods. There he found the blind god Hother standing at the outside of the circle. Loki asked him, ‘Why do you not shoot at Balder?’ Hother answered, ‘Because I do not see where he stands; besides I have no weapon.’ Then said Loki, ‘Do like the rest and show Balder honour, as they all do. I will show you where he stands, and do you shoot at him with this twig.’ Hother took the mistletoe and threw it at Balder, as Loki directed him. The mistletoe struck Balder and pierced him through and through, and he fell down dead. For a while the gods stood speechless, and then they lifted up their voices and wept bitterly.  
Balder’s body was burned in a funeral pyre on his ship. In another version, the goddess Frigg persuaded the other gods to restore Balder to life. She repaid their obliging wizardry with kisses. The gods also made the mistletoe promise that it would never again do an uncharitable deed but would forever be consecrated to acts of happiness and usefulness. Frigg was given the authority of making the mistletoe live up to this pledge. So perhaps the hanging of mistletoe and the kissing relate to the goodness the plant bestows, and the habits of Frigg, the goddess of love and beauty. 

 

Another version:

Baldur's mother was the Norse goddess, Frigga. When Baldur was born, Frigga made each and every plant, animal and inanimate object promise not to harm Baldur. But Frigga overlooked the mistletoe plant -- and the mischievous god of the Norse myths, Loki, took advantage of this oversight. Ever the prankster, Loki tricked one of the other gods into killing Baldur with a spear fashioned from mistletoe. Hermódr the Bold was appointed to ride to Hel in an attempt to bring Baldur back. Hel's condition for returning Baldur was that absolutely every last thing in the world, living and dead, had to weep for him. Failing that, he would remain with Hel. When this condition was put to the test, all wept except for a certain giantess, believed to be Loki in disguise. Baldur's resurrection was thus thwarted.  
The ancient source for the foregoing Norse myth is the Prose Edda. Variations include it being agreed after the death of Baldur, mistletoe would bring love rather than death into the world and any two people passing under mistletoe would exchange a kiss in memory of Baldur, and also that the tears Frigga shed over the slain Baldur would become the mistletoe berries. 

The end

**Author's Note:**

> The first story of Balder is set out in Frazer’s work The Golden Bough.
> 
> The ancient source for the second is the Prose Edda. Variations include it being agreed after the death of Baldur, mistletoe would bring love rather than death into the world and any two people passing under mistletoe would exchange a kiss in memory of Baldur, and also that the tears Frigga shed over the slain Baldur would become the mistletoe berries. 
> 
> Parrish mentions the use of mistletoe in cancer treatments. Look up 'use for Iscador' if you're interested in following it up.


End file.
